


Hold On

by jackscrutchie



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Crying, Gen, Illness, Implied Relationships, M/M, Pain, Pointless Angst, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 20:03:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10815759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackscrutchie/pseuds/jackscrutchie
Summary: Crutchie has been sick for nearly a week -- Jack just can't leave him.





	Hold On

It was really bad this time. Of course, it was bad every time Crutchie was sick but this time – It even felt different. Almost as if there was something off in the air. It had been five days since he started showing symptoms and five days since the sun had last shown itself. When it did manage to peek out from behind the gloom, it didn’t shine nearly as bright. At night, it rained. Even the moon was hiding from them. The boys kept reassuring Jack that things would be alright and dammit, he wanted to believe it so much. But he was terrified.

Jack would sit next to Crutchie’s sleeping form, un-moving for hours at a time. He ignored his back when it started to ache. He ignored the morning bells and meal calls. If Race hadn’t brought him food each day, he probably wouldn’t eat. There were times he tried to sketch. He tried to draw Santa Fe. He tried to draw flowers, a dog, the train he wished they could be on together, he tried drawing his own hands. He tried to draw Crutchie. Beautiful, feisty, and full of life. He threw his papers to the side, his charcoal snapping in half as it hit the ground.

This wasn’t fair. What had Crutchie done in his life to be dealt this hand? He was nothing but kind to everyone he met. He always had a smile on his face. He was always ready to make some sort of witty comeback when the opportunity presented itself. He made people laugh and made people smile. He lifted people up, encouraged them. He was the light in the darkest nights. Jack leaned forward, pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes. His fingers gripped his dark hair as he rubbed, trying to fight the oncoming tears. He shouldn’t be the one dying in this disgusting place. Dying… Crutchie. He felt sick.

“Come on, Crutchie…” His voice was barely a whisper. Crutchie hadn’t opened his eyes in almost twenty - four hours. More than once a nun had come to visit, saying a prayer or two. The last of those times, Jack had lashed out. ‘Get outta here! That ain’t helpin’ no one!’ The sister looked at him with so much sorrow in her eyes, he almost fell over. She understood how afraid he was and he saw that. He had apologized, lowering his head ashamed of himself. On any other day, in any other situation, he’d have his knuckles smacked with a ruler. But she reached her hand out to gently touch his cheek, and was gone. Jack sat back in the old, rickety chair and cleared his burning throat. He wasn’t going to let himself cry.

“Jack?” A voice came from behind him, but his mind didn’t register it. “Hey. You alright?” A hand rested on his shoulder, snapping him out of his mind.

“I’m fine.” Jack clipped his words, not wanting to listen to anyone right now. Not when Crutchie was still out, pale and motionless. “I wish you’d all stop badgerin’ me.”

“We’re just trying to help you Jack.” Davey knelt down next to Crutchie’s bed, looking at his thinned hollowed out face. “Everyone is worried.” He reached forward to touch the boys forehead but was quickly pulled back.

“Don’t touch him, Dave.” He almost spat the words.

Davey sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Alright – But Jack, you’ve got to take a breath.”

“Just don’t.” Jack wouldn’t, couldn’t pull his eyes off of Crutchie. He watched the slow labored breath making his chest rise and fall. “He’s the one you need ta be worryin’ about. Not me.” He clenched his jaw, doing his best to keep his composure.

Davey sighed, looking from Jack to Crutchie. “Listen… Me and the others, we’ve been talking. We all agree that,” he paused trying to figure out the best way to continue. “We think you need to take a break. Let someone else sit with him for a while. We can handle this.”

Jack recoiled shaking his head, but before he could interject, Davey continued. “Just for one night. You need to get away - Clear your head and get a good night of sleep. You’ve got to eat something, get some fresh air!” He gestured to their surroundings, bunk beds lining the walls. “Miss Medda is worried about you. The boys are worried. I’m worried. Katherine is worried.” He held out his hand to stop Jack’s protest. “We’re all just as worried about Crutchie as you are, Jack. But we’re allowed to worry about you too.”

Jack knew he was being too hard on everyone. He knew that they were just looking out for him, as he always did for them. Still – This was Crutchie. His Crutchie. He wasn’t going to let anyone tear them apart. “So while he’s here, fading away in this God forsaken place, you expect me to go out and pretend like this ain’t happenin’?” He scoffed. “I’m stayin’ here. I wont leave until he wakes up and gets better. Ain’t no one that can tell me otherwise.”

“I didn’t say anything about –” A sigh. Davey looked at the ground and stood, a bit frustrated with Jack’s stubbornness but – Heartbroken for the boy. “What good are you going to be to Crutchie when he wakes up, but you’ve passed out from exhaustion?” He fixed his gaze on the small boy’s closed, sunken in eyes. He was trying to press his words hard, trying to convince Jack to take a break. In the end, he knew it was useless.

“I ain’t leavin’ him Dave.” Jack bit his lip, hard. “I can’t. I couldn’t live with myself if I left and he –” He stopped, unable to finish his thought. He reached out to hold onto Crutchie’s thin hand, his own rough hand shook. Crutchie’s hand was still warm and his fingers twitched just lightly at Jack’s touch. “I promised him a long time ago I wouldn’t let him go alone.” He didn’t fight the tears falling from his eyes.

“He’s not going anywhere.” Davey said, his voice hushed and gentle. “You know him better than anyone. He’s just about as stubborn as you are, if not more so.” He set his hand on Jack’s trembling shoulder and squeezed. “He’ll wake up as long as he has you to hold on to.”

Jack’s head tipped forward, a single quiet sob escaping past his lips. “And I wont let go.”


End file.
